Maybe, just maybe
by Delerhyna
Summary: Chas goes to John's apartment in distress. Chastine, angst.


Disclaimer : Unfortunately, I don't own Constantine. Or any of the actors, as I'm sure many of us wish we did.

Enjoy the story.

_Jaelle_

_**Maybe, just maybe.**_

Chas bolted out the door, grabbing the torn pieces of his shirt. He looked blindly around, then started running under the rain. Never mind that the taxi was right here, waiting for him on the curb. He ran, seemingly aimlessly, but even though his mind didn't know where he was going, his feet knew. He hurt all over. He could feel blood dripping down his face, could feel his ribs burning under the remains of his shirt, could feel the soreness of his back. But the pain didn't matter. What mattered was the despair, the burning anger, the feeling of weakness, against his father, against everybody who wanted to control him. Because they could. He was powerless. And finally, he felt the self-disgust. And that was the worst. Disgust at himself for being too weak to defend himself, to protect himself, and to hit back. So he ran, blinded by the rain, the blood, the pain, and the strong self-destructive feelings. It was late, so there weren't many cars. He would have probably ended up in the hospital otherwise. He fell once or twice, then got back on his feet, and ran again. Finally, after what seemed like hours of reckless running in the streets of Los Angeles, he was there. He hadn't known he wanted to go there, but after all, it made sense. This was the only place he could go, really. But even this place wasn't exactly welcoming. The dark man would probably be drinking and smoking, or gone to Midnite's. Well, that didn't matter. He just wanted to crash somewhere where he knew nobody would beat him and where he could be dry. Maybe he could even borrow the couch and sleep there, if he begged enough, and if Constantine was in a good mood.

And yet, when he got in front of the door, he couldn't get himself to open it. He was hurt, but didn't want pity. Not from this man. He had never known what was going on in Chas's home, and he didn't want that to change. The dark side of his mind reminded him that John wouldn't care either way. He didn't care about Chas, after all. He was just the annoying kid who drove him around and talked all the time. He was worthless to him, meaningless. John would merely be annoyed to have him drip on his floor and disrupt his quiet evening. So he just let his head fall on the door with a loud thud. He had run all the way here, but couldn't get himself to open the door, because the man he longed for so much couldn't stand him, and he didn't want to bother him more than usual.

Trapped in the internal conflict, he didn't hear the steps on the other side of the door, and almost fell on top of John when he opened the door. Immediately, he straightened up and apologized. Seeing the blood on the expensive white shirt, he started feeling desperate again.

"I'm so sorry John, I'll pay for it, I promise, I'll buy another one."

"What are you talking about, kid?"

"The… The blood I just put on your shirt. It's not going to go, you know blood never goes away. I'm sorry, I'll just buy another one."

"What blood?" John replied, confused. He then looked down at his shirt and saw the stains.

"What the hell happened to you, kid?" He asked, frowning and finally taking in the sight and state of his apprentice.

"Did you get in a fight?"

"No... Well, not exactly. It doesn't matter. Do you mind if I crash here tonight? I'll be gone before you wake up, I promise."

John just stared at him, thinking deeply. Obviously, there was something going on with the kid, and, even if he'd never admit it out loud, it worried him. A lot. The kid hadn't gotten in an actual fight, and apparently couldn't go home. It wasn't very hard to put two and two together and figure out that the problem was at home. He'd already noticed that Chas never talked about his home, but had never thought that there might be something more going on. He had also noticed that some days, Chas seemed stiff and had bruises, but he had always brushed it off as fights or accidents. Now it seemed he had overlooked something important, and feeling what he knew he felt about the boy, he wanted to kick himself for not looking into it sooner.

"Sure. Come in."

Well, technically, the kid was _already _in. He closed the door behind them.

"Take off your jacket." After the kid had dropped it on the couch, he added : "Follow me."

He went into the bathroom, Chas stumbling behind him. He motioned for a stool.

"Sit there." Still mute, Chas complied. John opened a few cabinets and drawers and pulled out towels, betadine and bandages.

"Keep still." The kid didn't answer. John wetted the towel and started wiping the blood off his face. When he was done, he asked :

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Uh… Yeah, but it doesn't matter. I'll be fine. Thanks." He started getting up, but John pushed him back down.

"Take off your shirt."

"John, it's not necessary…"

"Take it off, or I'll do it myself." He cut Chas off. The kid fidgeted, unsure. John started undoing the buttons roughly. Defeated, Chas looked away and let him. The more he uncovered Chas's chest, the more John felt horrified. There were bruises, scars, scratches, old and new. Finally, he took the shirt off completely, taking a look at his back in the process. It was even worse.

"Okay, kid. Time for the confession."

"Look, John, it's nothing…"

"You call _that _nothing? I call that a thrashing. More than one, actually. What happened? Who is it? What the _hell _is going on at your home? How often does it happen?

Chas merely looked away again. John grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"Talk to me, Chas."

The kid looked at him, despair slowly settling in his eyes.

"I… Uh… Not very often. When my father's home, when he's been drinking and I can't get away from him quickly enough. But I usually can! It's just my fault, I didn't see him coming this night. I'm sorry I came here to bother you, John. I'm going to leave now. Sorry."

"You're not going anywhere, kid." John answered, a hard look on his face. "We're going to take care of your injuries, and you're staying here."

"John, you don't have to. I know I'm a burden to you."

"Whatever gave you that idea? Listen to me carefully, I'm not going to repeat it. You're not a burden to me, and I care about you. Now shut up and stay still."

He grabbed the towel again and started gently cleaning off the blood. When he saw Chas flinch as he was touching his ribs, he asked :

"Anything broken here?"

"I don't think so. He's already broken a couple, I know what it feels like. I'm just sore."

John was getting angrier and angrier. Tomorrow, he was going to go to the kid's house and beat the shit out of his father.

When he was done cleaning up the wounds, he said:

"Take off your clothes and get in the shower. I'll check on you in ten minutes."

Chas merely looked at him, a lost look in his eyes. Finally, he got up and started undressing slowly. John exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He went to the kitchen and helped himself a glass of alcohol. He was both crushed and consumed by anger. He loved that kid, for God's sake! He couldn't believe he hadn't seen the abuse before. He was going to make the father pay, and never let Chas go away. No matter that the kid didn't love him, he wouldn't ask anything of him. But he sure as hell wasn't letting him go back to live with his father. Ten minutes later, he was still brooding and could still hear the water running in the bathroom. He set his glass down and went to the door.

"Chas? You alright?" When he got no answer, he opened the door, to find Chas sitting in the shower, his knees to his chest and his head buried in his arms. He walked to the shower, stopped the water and sat down besides Chas. After a few minutes, he spoke.

"Come on, Chas. You'll be fine. You're not going back there." That did it. Chas finally broke down. He started crying, and John put his arms around his shoulders. Chas started leaning on him, and soon John was cradling him in his arms. Neither cared about John's clothes getting soaked, or Chas being naked.

Well, to be honest, John _did _care about the latter. But now was not the time to indulge in his fantasies. He had a distraught kid in his arms and had to make sure he was going to be fine. So he started running his hand through his hair in a calming motion. No muttering of sweet words, of course. He was John Constantine, and John Constantine does not whisper sweet things in anybody's ears, no matter what.

"Shh kid, you're gonna be alright. It's okay, I'll take care of you, don't worry. Stop crying, Chas, you'll be fine."

Okay, maybe, on rare occasions he did. Whatever.

After a while, John stood up.

"Dry yourself up Chas, I'm bringing you clothes." He went to his bedroom and grabbed sweatpants and a shirt. When he got back to the bathroom, Chas was dry and had his underwear on and was sitting on the tiles again, but looked up when John got in. He helped him get up and get dressed, then stirred him to his bedroom.

"No, wait, John. Where are you sleeping?"

"I'm sleeping on the couch."

"No, I don't matter. I'm not stealing your bed. I'll be fine on the couch."

"Stop arguing and get to bed, kid."

So Chas did. When John got out of the bedroom, turning the lights off on his way out, Chas spoke up.

"I'm really sorry John, I'm…"

"It's not your fault Chas, go to sleep." He interrupted him.

He went back to the kitchen and helped himself another drink. The kid was going to need his help, and not just to move in and heal physically. He obviously had confidence issues. He thought the whole thing was his fault, that he didn't deserve help and, worst of all, that John didn't care. Well, he was going to change all that. Screw his reputation, screw the wall he'd tried to build between Chas and himself to protect them both, he was going to open up to the kid and _make_ him see that he cared. He was going to make him see that he wasn't worthless, but invaluable to him. Chas was well worth his admittance of his feelings if that's what he needed to get better.

It had been a couple of hours since he'd put Chas to bed when he started hearing them. The whimpers, the begging, and finally the sobs. He went to the bedroom, to see Chas thrashing in his bed, his cheeks covered in tears and a look of distress and pain on his sleeping face. He went to the bed and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Shh Chas, you're okay. I'm here, you're safe." The kid stopped kicking and tossing and John left, only to hear the thrashing start again a couple of minutes later. Defeated, he changed into his pyjamas and went to bed with Chas. When he took the teen in his arms, Chas's back pressed to his chest, he stopped moving, finally falling into a dreamless sleep. John stayed awake longer, wondering how the kid would react in the morning. Well, he'd just have to wake up before him then. On that decision, he finally fell asleep, his nose full of Chas's scent.

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When morning came, Chas woke up feeling warm and better rested than he'd felt in months. In other words, there was no way he was ever moving. He was feeling safe and comfortable, and he wasn't leaving that for any amount of money. Not even a book.

Unfortunately, sleep started leaving his head and his brain turned on. Where _was_ he, anyway? That's when he remembered the previous night. His father, the beating, the desperate running under the rain, John's apartment, the bathroom, the shower and finally, the bedroom. He then noticed the arm around his waist, pressing him against the warmth in his back. So John was in the bed too, huh? Well, he certainly wasn't about to complain.

At that moment, said John started to stir, slowly waking up. The first thing he noticed was that he was feeling too damn good and that something was therefore wrong. Then he remembered the events of the night before, and his decision to wake up before Chas. Just when he started trying to disentangle himself from the teen, Chas turned over in his arms and buried his head in his chest, mumbling "Good morning.".

Well, so much for getting up before him. At the same time, another part of his brain was desperately screaming : _Oh God, I could get used to that…_

"How are you kid?"

"I'm good. Better." Came the muffled response. "I don't want to get up, John."

_Well, guess what? Me neither._ However, John decided not to answer. He let the kid have a few minutes, then started getting up.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a few errands to run." And someone's face to destroy. "I'll be back soon. Stay here."

"Okay" the kid answered. However, he sat up in the bed; grabbed John's shirt as he was turning to take his clothes and looked at him. For a few minutes, they didn't move. Then John sat back down on the bed and Chas looked down, still not letting go of the shirt. John gently grabbed his chin and asked softly.

"What's wrong?"

Then Chas did something he had absolutely not expected. He looked up, despair and a little bit of hope shining in his eyes, and pressed his lips against John's. John stayed frozen for a couple of seconds before wrapping his arms around the teen and finally responding to the kiss. When they broke apart, they merely looked at each other, finally understanding the other's struggle and actions. Both opened their mouths to say something, only to close it immediately. They both felt the talking shouldn't take place now. So instead, John kissed Chas again and got up, leaving the room.

He got dressed, grabbed his coat and got out of the apartment. He then took a cab to Chas's place and asked the driver to wait for him, handing him a twenty as an incentive. The driver happily complied.

When he knocked at the door, a woman answered.

"Yes?"

"Is Mr. Kramer here? I'm here about his son, Chas."

"Uh, yes, but he's not exactly…" Not waiting for the woman he assumed was Chas's mother to finish, he pushed his way in.

In the end, he didn't remember much of the apartment. A lot of mess, dirt and trash all over the place, a general brownish shade, and when he was done, stains of red everywhere. He hadn't killed him, but had made sure he wouldn't be able to move for a couple of months. The horrified woman watched everything without interfering. When he was done though, she shakily asked:

"Why did you…?"

"Do you know how he treated Chas?"

The woman looked away, giving him the answer. He took his eyes off her face, disgusted. Finally, he asked her without looking at her:

"Do you have cartons? Boxes?"

"Uh yes, this way."

Thirty minutes later, he had all of Chas' stuff in boxes and the driver was helping him put them in the cab. The cab drove him home and he paid him, adding a generous tip to get him to help get all the boxes in the condo. During the whole thing, Chas didn't show up. When finally all the cartons were in and the driver was out, he went to look for him. He found scrambled eggs on the kitchen counter, along with a note.

"_Eggs for breakfast whenever you come back. I couldn't find anything else edible in that apartment of yours. You really need to buy normal things to eat! If I'm not here when you come back, that's because I'm taking a shower. Chas."_

Well, since he was going to live here as well, grocery shopping would become his problem soon if he wanted to have "edible food" around. And maybe John would end up benefitting from it in the process. Hey, maybe Chas could cook, who knew… He couldn't be worse than John anyway.

John went over to the bathroom and called through the door.

"I'm back, Chas, and I'm going to need your help with a few boxes."

"Uh, okay! I'll be out in a minute."

In the meantime, John went over to his bedroom and cleared a couple of drawers as well as a dresser. When he was done, Chas came up right behind him and asked him:

"What do you need me for?" His brow furrowed in confusion when he saw the empty drawers.

"Are you moving out?"

"No. You're moving in."

"What?!"

"You didn't seriously think I'd let you go back there, did you? I went to pick up your stuff this morning. Everything is in the boxes."

"Uh, okay but… In your bedroom? I don't want to bother…"

"Stop with the bother crap! Chas you never bother me, I love you for fuck's sake!"

There was a silence. Chas looked at him with wide eyes, eyes in which a mad hope slowly started to settle.

"You… really? You… love me? But I thought you…"

"I know. I haven't been showing it. I didn't want to push this on you. I'm sorry to tell you now, but you need to know that someone cares about you. I do, Chas. A lot."

"You're _sorry_?" Then Chas started laughing. He couldn't believe this. John loved him. He thought he despised him, and here he came and said he loved him. That was just too much. So he laughed, hysterically. After a while, he finally stopped. John was starting to feel really uneasy, a little ashamed, and hurt. He told the kid he loved him, and he just laughed in his face.

Suddenly, Chas launched himself at John and crushed his lips on his, demanding entrance. John, shocked, opened his mouth. Chas started exploring his mouth rather roughly. John had barely started responding when Chas broke away.

"I love you too, you _moron._ I thought you hated me."

"Of course not, moron yourself. Anyway, you're moving in, and yes, you're putting your stuff in my bedroom."

Chas beamed at him. John was still a little dazzled. So the brat loved him too, huh? Well, that was going to make things a lot easier. First, he wouldn't have to buy another bed for Chas…

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That afternoon, they went grocery shopping on Chas's insistence. He wanted something decent to eat that wasn't take out, and John complied. He didn't have much choice after Chas unleashed the puppy eyes on him. Plus, the kid was right. He needed some actual food in his fridge, not that he'd admit it to him. So he put a pained look on his face and resigned himself to endure some shopping. In the end, it wasn't that bad and he was actually looking forward to eating whatever Chas would cook. Because he had made it clear that he couldn't and wouldn't cook, except if Chas really wanted to die of food poisoning. Chas happily agreed and they went on. When they got back home, Chas started cooking and John pulled out a glass and a bottle and merely watched him working, amazed that the kid really wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe his luck. So someone was finally able to stand him enough to want to live with him, and this someone was Chas. Wonderful, blabbering, beautiful, funny, witty, sensitive, vulnerable Chas wanted him. He was not going to blow this one. He was going to take care of Chas and never let him go.

After they were done eating, Chas took a book and went to sit on the couch to read. John pulled out a cigarette and was about to light it when Chas looked up and said:

"Don't. Please."

He looked at the teen for a long time, then made a decision. He turned the lighter off and threw the cigarette away, all the while looking at Chas. Some things were going to have to change. He had someone to live for, and he wasn't going to let some stupid disease ruin everything. He grabbed a book and went to sit besides Chas. He opened the book at random, pretending to read while he was actually a lot more focused on the feel of Chas on his side. After a while, he couldn't stand it anymore. He threw his book on the ground, soon followed by Chas's.

"Hey! What are you…"

John cut him off rather effectively with a kiss, running his hands in the teen's hair and under his shirt. Chas immediately responded, lifting John's shirt and slipping his hands on his back. After a few minutes of heated making out, John grabbed Chas's hand and went to the bedroom with him. He pushed Chas on the bed and followed suit, pressing his lips on Chas's. He started kissing his neck, licking the spot right behind his ear, making the boy shiver. He proceeded to take off the teen's shirt, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest, lingering on the nipples, making the boy's back arch. They completely let the passion, lust, love and need for each other take over.

Hours later, after they had quenched their thirst for each other, they just lay in bed, neither asleep. Chas squirmed a little, and John asked:

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No, not really. Just pretty sore. But good sore! Don't worry, I'm fine." He added, seeing the worried look on John's face.

"So you went to my house? Did you see…"

"Yes, I saw him. He… agreed not to bother you again."

"Oh. Okay."

And with just that, the matter of Chas's father was dismissed. It wasn't over, the healing process would be long and Chas would keep the scars. But he wasn't alone to deal with it anymore. And that's what really mattered, in the end. They both had demons, but now they also had each other. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to ward the demons off.

The End


End file.
